Seventeen
by Kralia
Summary: [Dr Franklin's Island] Semi and Arnie have a talk on the beach. This is extremely AU, as it works on the premise that Dr Franklin and his hospital are in fact, not on the island.


I feel kind of bad writing this. It's probably the first time these characters have been written by someone else. I probably screwed it up badly.

SEVENTEEN

I remember I was sitting on the beach. It much have been early evening, because I remember the sun wasn't directly overhead but wasn't sinking into the sea either. Somewhere in the middle. It was just a few days after we'd found the mango tree, too, and I was about to eat one. I'd just peeled a section of the skin off. I know that because I remember coming back to it afterwards, picking it up and thinking how everything was changing. First we found a mango tree, now this.

He came and sat next to me, a couple of feet away. He didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, just sat there. He seemed to be looking out to sea. I was concentrating on peeling the mango skin off without tearing it. I thought maybe if we dried it we could use it for something. Then suddenly he spoke.

"Semi, do you want to go screw?"

For a second it was like I'd grabbed onto an electric wire and got a very mild shock. Just for a second. Then I was back sitting on the beach with a boy who'd just asked me a ridiculous question. A question that didn't belong in our parameters of conversation. When Arnie and I talked, we talked about what needed to be discussed, like fishing nets and how much longer the water would last before we had to get some more. Occasionally we played chess with the board drawn out in the sand, a pastime that Miranda showed no interest in. Nice, safe interaction.

Once, when Miranda was away collecting bananas, Arnie fell into the lagoon. He'd been running along the reef and slipping, dropped screaming and landed with a huge splash. He panicked, thrashing madly. He attracted a shark easily. I came as fast as I could and managed to drag him out, spluttering, just before shark's jaws snapped on air. It unnerved me but he completely broke down, clinging onto me, his fingers digging in, sobbing and trembling and whimpering, in between begging me repeatedly not to tell Miranda. Then ten minutes later he was fine, his usual guarded self. He just didn't look me in the eye for a couple of days. That was the only time nice and safe went out of the window. Once and never again.

I glanced at him. He stared back, expressionlessly blatant, waiting for an answer. I turned determinedly back to my mango. "What gives you the idea I'd ever do that with you?"

He said nothing for a while. Then he answered in a curiously flat voice. "I counted the notches on the tree last night, Semi. Seven hundred and forty three. Over two years."

"Arnie, don't–"

"We're not going to be rescued, Semi. They all think we're dead. For the rest of our lives this is going to be it. You, me and Miranda… we're not going to see any other people. Ever."

He had said the unspeakable. The golden rule of living on the island: you never, _ever_ say it's forever. We were living for the hope of rescue. I'd dropped my mango. I was staring at the sand. I hated him so much right then, more than anything I'd ever felt before. He'd said the unspeakable. And yet I couldn't help feeling just a bit relieved. We'd all known the truth for a long time. He was just the first to actually drag it into the open.

"Come on, you're really going to go your whole life without ever… No. And Miranda isn't into the whole lesbianism thing." He laughed bitterly. "Trust me, I know. You'll crack sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. Get it over with."

"_Get it over with?_"

"This was bloody hard for me too, Semi. We've all been indoctrinated with this thing that says you only fuck people you love. I'm trying to make it easy for you."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Urgh. Just listen to what you're saying. I'm sure you're just _beating yourself up_ over the possibility–"

For a second I thought he was going to slap me, the look of anger on his face. Then it died away. "Whatever. You just convince yourself that this is just some lame little plot to get into your pants. That I don't _care_. Sooner or later, Semi. Sooner or later."

He got up abruptly and stalked off. I sat trembling. I punched the sand, a dull sound that even I hardly heard.

Two years.

I was seventeen, I realised, with something of a shock. Seventeen. Ordinarily I'd be starting my driving lessons now. Maybe I'd have already passed.

Sooner or later.

I set my half-peeled mango down on the sand slowly. I sat for a few seconds. I stared out at the sun. It sets so quickly here, wherever here is. Finally, I got up.

Resigned to my fate, I began to follow Arnie's footprints back to the shelter.


End file.
